


just keep the wheels rolling, radio scrolling

by xslytherclawx



Category: Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Earth, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anakin Skywalker Doesn't Turn to the Dark Side, Chocolate Box Exchange, Chocolate Box Treat, F/M, Jewish Skywalkers, Minor Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker, Raised Together, Road Trips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-17 17:40:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29229393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xslytherclawx/pseuds/xslytherclawx
Summary: The thing is, Luke is fine. She can feel it. He’sfine.And Mom will absolutely lose her shit, probably miss this week’s critical vote. Dad will start a manhunt on his own (and that’s something that you don’t want; he may run a successful garage in suburban Atlanta now, but he’s from a particularly gritty small town in Nevada, with twenty guns for every person).Nevada.Doesn’t Dad’s stepbrother still live out there?“So what next, Princess?” Han asks.“We find him,” Leia says.
Relationships: Leia Organa & Luke Skywalker, Leia Organa/Han Solo
Comments: 20
Kudos: 38
Collections: All Your Faves Are Jewish, Chocolate Box - Round 6, xslytherclawx's jewish fic, xslytherclawx’s events collection





	just keep the wheels rolling, radio scrolling

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Another Wayward Cowgirl (viajeramyra)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/viajeramyra/gifts).



> This was an absolute delight to write (not in the least because I had an excuse to binge the OT + Solo again)!  
> I did want to highlight one video I found very helpful in figuring out the Falcon - you can watch it on YouTube [here](https://youtu.be/V0bnb48KaKc).
> 
> * * *
> 
> I hope you enjoy it, Another Wayward Cowgirl!  
> Thanks to Ben for helping workshop this and sinkauli for beta reading!  
> (title from Maren Morris - "My Church")  
> 
> 
> * * *
> 
> And, of course, what road trip fic would be complete without a playlist? You can listen on Spotify [here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/50kZsSmTDKcvs3vb0QpPIv?si=3jYW1fYfRgmtGJFRScn8bQ), or the track listing is in the end notes!

Leia hates a lot of things. Incompetence. Laziness. Arrogance. Scruffy shifters who think dealing weed out of a beat up Volkswagen bus older than they are is the same as an actual “career”.

When you put that all together, you get her brother’s loser friend.

She doesn’t understand it. Luke is reasonably smart. He’s ambitious. He’s a sophomore at Coruscant University, just like she is, and on the Dean’s List, just like she is. He can  _ make something _ of himself.

Why his best friend is a community college dropout who probably  _ lives _ in said beat up Volkswagen bus is a mystery she’s never been able to solve. Luke never said anything more than, “This is my friend Han,” while their parents speculated that Han was Luke’s very first boyfriend (he wasn’t a boyfriend, and he  _ definitely _ wasn’t the first, but Leia’s good at keeping secrets).

It’s not that Leia isn’t  _ also _ prone to spontaneous, impulsive bullshit. She is. As much as their mom might like to pretend otherwise, it runs on  _ both _ sides of their family.

It’s just that her brand of spontaneous, impulsive bullshit does not typically involve disappearing for days on end.

Luke’s does.

For the first day after Luke vanishes during their sophomore year of college, Leia doesn’t worry. He’ll turn up somewhere.

It’s only two days later, when Han shows up outside of her building looking like a lost puppy that she starts to feel something like concern.

The thing is, she and Luke have always had a second sense for each other. Call it a twin thing. She doesn’t think he’s in danger, not really.

But if Han’s here, then it’s only a matter of time before he’s hounding their parents. He’s like a human puppy, sometimes, and she doesn’t need him to go all Lassie on them.

Leia doesn’t know what’ll be worse: if their mother gets pulled away from a Senate session (Mom has the highest voting rate of any sitting senator, and Leia, for one, does not want to see her jeopardise this over Luke being stupid), or if their dad finds out.

Sometimes she thinks her temper is bad, but their dad… 

It’s better if she nips this in the bud, really.

Amilyn gives Han the same vaguely disgusted look she always does. She likes Luke well enough, but she likes Han even less than Leia does. Leia can’t blame her.

“Luke’s  _ fine,” _ Leia says after Han gives his whole spiel about how he hasn’t heard from Luke in  _ days. _

She sees something like hope cross his face. “I guess you’ve probably heard from him, Princess.”

Leia rolls her eyes. “I haven’t, but I’d know if he were in danger.”

She can see that Han isn’t convinced. Damn it. 

“He’ll be home for New Year’s,” Leia says, pulling her hood up. Fuck, it’s cold. She grew up in  _ Atlanta _ and Luke was the one who wanted to go to the same university as mom. She can’t stand these cold winters (and neither can Luke, really).

“Did he tell you that?”

He didn’t, and she’s pretty sure that Han knows that. “Look, he does this kind of thing all the time.”

Unexpectedly, Amilyn is the one to betray her. “You should at least check his room to make sure he brought his phone.”

Han isn’t going to leave her alone. 

“Fine. But he’s fine. I know it.”

* * *

Getting into Luke’s dorm is easier than expected. Getting into any given dorm building is always easy; you just wait until someone’s leaving, and if you look the part of a college student, they’ll usually hold the door open for you.

Getting into his room, by itself, is a simple matter of picking the lock. She instructs Han and Amilyn to stand guard.

Amilyn listens and watches for anyone who might see what they’re doing. Han watches her.

Unlike her, Luke has a single room. So there’s no roommate to bribe (she knows Amilyn is unbribeable, but still). This is her only option, as she sees it.

She’s acutely aware of Han’s eyes on her.

“Can I help you?” she snaps, though she doesn’t take her eyes off her work.

“Just didn’t figure you for the type to know how to pick locks.”

She’s out of practise, but she gets it, then. She hears the lock click, and she opens the door. 

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” Leia says primly as she walks into her brother’s room.

It looks the same as ever; junk everywhere. Lots of parts for god only knows what he’s decided to build this semester (none actually connected to his degree, she’s sure). 

His laptop is gone, as is his backpack.

But there, on his desk, is his phone.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.”

“So what next, Princess?” Han asks.

Luke’s phone is dead, so she plugs it in to charge while she sits on his bed. Fucking idiot.

Amilyn shuts the door.

Leia takes a breath.

The thing is, Luke is fine. She can  _ feel _ it. He’s  _ fine. _

And Mom will absolutely lose her shit, probably miss this week’s critical vote. Dad will start a manhunt on his own (and that’s something that you don’t want; he may run a successful garage in suburban Atlanta now, but he’s from a particularly gritty small town in Nevada, with twenty guns for every person).

Nevada.

Doesn’t Dad’s stepbrother still live out there?

“We find him,” Leia says.

“He could be anywhere,” Han says.

“I think he drove. He likes to drive when he gets like this. In high school, he went all the way to Niagara Falls and back. We’ll check the parking garage for the car, and in the meantime, I’ll make sure he didn’t book a flight to anywhere.”

* * *

The car is gone, and none of his credit cards have been used. His debit card hasn’t been used, either, except for a large cash withdrawal on the day he dropped off the face of the earth.

Han seems to think this is condemning, that someone’s kidnapped Luke.

Leia knows this is just typical Luke bullshit.

Her own finals are done. Amilyn has one more, so she offers to stay and keep an eye out. If Luke comes back, she’ll text them.

And then.

Well.

All that’s left to do is pack.

Leia knows how to pack in a rush, and she knows how to manage just the essentials. Basic jeans, t-shirts, dark colors that can be worn for a few days without worrying about spilling. A pair of sweatpants and an old Wesleyan t-shirt to sleep in.

She doesn’t think they’ll stop for laundry.

She packs her toothbrush, toothpaste, shampoo, conditioner, leave-in cream, and body wash. Two clean turkish towels, just in case. 

She trusts Amilyn, so she leaves her laptop. Takes her phone, iPad, and charger and power packs.

It all fits in the fancy hiking backpack her mom got her for Birthright (which is in two weeks, so let’s call this a trial run; Luke will be back for Birthright – they’ve always planned on going together – she knows it).

Han meets her outside of her building. Thank god for women’s only dorms. No one wants to be the one who lets a man in.

“That was fast, Princess. You sure you’re not missing anything?”

“I know how to pack, jackass.”

She breezes past him to the parking garage. And then she remembers.

Luke took the car.

“Finally hit you, huh?” Han asks.

“Shut up.” She shoots him a look full of disdain.

“If only you knew someone who could drive… with no pressing obligations.”

She doesn’t  _ want _ to let Han Solo drive. But her car is gone, and leaving without him is a recipe for getting her parents involved.

“Fine,” she spits. 

“Right this way, your highness.”

He leads her out of the parking garage, down several streets, to the ugliest fucking VW bus she’s ever seen. She’s not sure whether it’s silver or if the paint has simply all chipped off. Someone has spray-painted “Millennium Falcon” on the side, which is a fucking joke, because she’s pretty sure the van is older than her dad.

Which is to say: if the van were a person, it would qualify as Gen X.

It’s not the first time she’s seen Han’s piece of junk van, but she’s never  _ actually _ seen it run.

She’s not convinced the van will  _ start, _ let alone get them all the way to Nevada. Which she tells Han directly.

“I’ll have you know that this baby outran the cops on  _ more _ than one occasion,” Han says

She rolls her eyes. “That’s not really something I’d  _ brag _ about if I were you.”

“Well, it’s this or you rent a car and risk your parents finding out.”

He’s right. She knows he’s right, and she hates it.

“I’m not doing this for you. I’m doing this so you don’t get my parents involved. Luke’s perfectly fine, I’m telling you.”

“Whatever you say, your highness.”

She could kill him. She settles for kicking the tire of the van with her Docs.

“Careful!”

If she makes it through this fucking road trip, it’ll be a goddamn miracle. “Whatever. Let’s go.”

She knows that she shouldn’t necessarily get into beat up old vans with older men. She’s smart. Her parents raised her better than this.

But Han is harmless. The van itself is probably more dangerous.

Besides, her dad made sure she knew how to shoot a gun and beat the shit out of a man with her bare hands before she left for college.

She opens the passenger door and several beer cans fall out onto the ground. That’s an  _ excellent _ start.

“I don’t drink and drive,” Han says.

She looks over her shoulder into the back of the van to see a messy bed, what looks like it might be a mini-fridge and some cabinets, and more alcohol. So he  _ does _ live in the van.

“Does Luke let you into his building to shower?”

Han rakes a hand through his hair. “I’m not using anyone, if that’s what you’re asking.”

She’s sure of that. Luke probably offered, out of the goodness of his heart.

She tosses several of the beer cans into the back. Enough to make room for her backpack, even though she could probably toss that back, too.

“I never said you were,” Leia says.

Han doesn’t look at her. “Yeah. Well. Anyway. As you can see, we can listen to the radio. No CDs or bluetooth or anything fancy. Tape deck’s busted. You can navigate; my phone stand broke last week.”

“Fine by me,” Leia says.

Han starts the car, though she gets the feeling they’re not going anywhere just yet. A car this old needs to warm up for a while first.

Which he tells her, and she rolls her eyes.

“My dad’s a mechanic. I know more about cars than you do.”

Han rolls his eyes. “Whatever.”

“I’m serious,” Leia says. “He’s a mechanic. That’s how he met my mom, and he’s never given it up.”

She knows that to a lot of people, her parents’ relationship doesn’t make any sense. Her mother was born into a comfortable New England family, she went to private school, was student council president, security council at Model U.N., and was admitted to every university she applied to. She went to Wesleyan for her undergraduate degree, and Coruscant for her law degree. She interned for Senator Bail Organa, made a name for herself quickly in Georgia politics, and was the youngest female senator ever elected.

Leia’s dad, on the other hand, grew up dirt poor in a ramshackle town in the middle of nowhere, Nevada. He hates cold, but he hates sand more. (They’ve never had a beach vacation, and he made the biggest face when he found out how much desert hiking was involved in Birthright; he insists still that they’ll be miserable when they spend the night in the Bedouin tent in the desert). He has no formal education; he didn’t even finish high school, really.

It’s just chance that they met, but they really do work well together.

Rather than unload all of that onto Han, who probably doesn’t care, she says, “Google Maps is trying to route me north; Luke wouldn’t have gone that way. He hates the cold more than I do. Neither of us really know how to drive in snow, or anything.”

If their mom is disappointed in them for anything, it’s that.

But she’s the one who decided to raise them in Atlanta, so she can’t blame them.

“Okay,” Han says. “And where do you think he’s gone?”

“Our dad has family in Nevada.”

“Nevada?” Han repeats. “You don’t think he could’ve gone anywhere  _ closer?” _

“No. He’s in Nevada. Trust me.”

Han rolls his eyes. “Whatever you say. If we get all the way out there and he’s nowhere to be found, you owe me a beer.”

“I can’t buy liquor. I’m not twenty-one.”

“You got money, don’t you?”

“Fine,” she says.

Han takes his coat off, throws it behind him, and fastens his seatbelt. “You might wanna take your coat off. The Falcon runs warm.”

Just to spite him, Leia buckles her seatbelt. “I’m fine, thanks. Anyway, you need to get to ninety-five, and then sixty-four. Do you need step-by-step for that, or not?”

Han rolls his eyes again. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

He puts the van into gear, and drives.

* * *

It’s late morning when they leave, but they don’t stop for lunch until Roanoke. 

“Stopping” is a generous word.

Han takes an exit, swings by a McDonald’s, asks her what she wants, and parks in the parking lot. 

He doesn’t even turn off the engine.

She  _ is _ surprised when he gets into the back of the van, pushes the bed back into a seat (tossing the sheets and comforter behind him), and starts to rotate a table over. 

“You wanna eat, or not?”

She joins him. She doesn’t know why. The bench seat fits both of them with plenty of room between them, and sitting there, next to Han Solo, feels strange. Like it should be a date, or something. Like he doesn’t currently have Big Mac sauce dribbling down his chin.

“So why do you think Luke’s in Nevada?”

“I told you,” she says, picking a fry out of the bag. “We have family out there”

“Okay, but I got family in Detroit. Don’t mean I’d ever see them.”

The radio changes to an [Old Dominion song](https://open.spotify.com/track/7I5fYc4qKJddht8Ozhqqdx?si=iXEAUlUeSBiXGkZ-BULhOw) – unsurprising, given where they are. “Our dad doesn’t talk much about his family. What we know… his mom died when he was about our age. He wasn’t there, and he hasn’t been back since.”

“So what makes you think Luke would see them? I know all about shitty families – you don’t go looking for them.”

“Dad’s family isn’t shitty. At least… his stepbrother and stepfather aren’t. His mother wasn’t.” She doesn’t really know much more than that. Her dad doesn’t  _ like _ his stepbrother, but he’s always been clear it’s not because he’s a terrible person, or anything. 

He’s just… not someone their dad understands.

They get a Christmas card from him every year. Mom sends them a Chanukah card, too.

“And again… Luke?”

She shrugs. “You know Luke. He thinks there’s some big mystery. Like it’s not just like Dad grew up in a shitty little town full of people who probably wouldn’t be too happy about his Yankee Democrat wife – let alone if they knew she was Jewish, too.”

“I thought you were from Atlanta.”

_ “We _ are. Mom’s from Connecticut, originally. But she went to Wesleyan and moved back to Georgia after law school. Not that, for the record, I think Georgian is any better to them than Yankee. It’s still different.”

“So you think Luke went out there, skipped his finals, just to see people who send you guys a Christmas card every year?”

“I think he was bored, desperately looking for a distraction, and thought about Owen and Beru. Then he took money out, grabbed the car, and left.”

“You think it’s that easy?”

“I know it’s that easy. I’d know if he were in danger.”

“I hope you’re right,” Han says.

“I am.”

He shoots her a doubtful look, but when he’s done eating, he gets back in the driver’s seat, anyway.

“Take your time; I’m just getting gas before we leave Virginia.”

* * *

They stop for the night outside of Memphis. It is blissfully several degrees warmer, though Leia’s wishing she’d packed something between a t-shirt and a winter coat.

“Here’s the deal,” Han says as they walk into a Waffle House. “I ain’t paying for no hotel room. The Falcon sleeps four.”

“I’m  _ not  _ sharing a bed with you.” She thinks she can forgo the shower in the morning if need be. This is more pressing.

“Relax,” he says, drawing out the first syllable. “The top pops up and there’s a bed up there with your name on it, your highness.”

She’s not sure how much privacy that allows, but she can take her bra off under her shirt and sleep in her jeans if she needs to. He doesn’t need to see anything. It could be much worse.

“Unless you want to pay for a hotel with  _ your _ credit card,” he says.

She doesn’t. 

Strictly-speaking, she does not think that Han would mind one bit if she paid for two hotel rooms for them. He’d probably welcome the shower and privacy.

But her parents would find out.

“At least it’s not too cold here.”

Han laughs. “It’s not cold here at all.”

She gives him a dirty look.

“I got extra blankets. Don’t worry your pretty little head about it.”

“I wonder how many people you’ve used that line on,” she snaps.

The waitress comes over then, and Leia recovers enough to smile and order cheesy hash browns. Han gets a burger.

“Never heard your accent before,” he says when the waitress walks away.

“What are you talking about?”

He puts on an exaggerated southern accent and pitches his voice up to a falsetto. “I’d like an order of cheesy hash browns and a coke, please.”

“I don’t sound like that,” Leia says. Maybe, just maybe, she  _ might _ have picked up a touch of an accent when she heard everyone around them speaking with one. She doesn’t see what’s so weird about that, though. She’s from  _ Georgia! _ Everyone she knows can do a southern accent, even if most people she grew up with don’t have one most of the time. “Besides, it’s common courtesy to say  _ please.” _

Han rolls his eyes. “You know, I thought Luke was some country podunk farm boy when I met him.”

“He tends to make that impression.”

“But you don’t.”

Leia shrugs. “I wasn’t aware twins had to be identical.”

“Forget it,” Han says.

* * *

They spend the night in a Walmart parking lot. Han pops the top and draws the privacy curtains before he starts setting the beds up. It occurs to Leia that this would be as good a time as any to run into Walmart and change in the bathroom.

So she does. She tells him first, and he waves her on.

Inside, she picks up some travel size mouthwash, some dry shampoo, and some spray-on deodorant. Just in case.

She brushes her teeth in the bathroom, and changes in the stall. It’s not as nice as having a hotel room – or hell, even motel room – bathroom to herself, but it’ll work.

It’s more incentive to get to Nevada as soon as possible.

When she gets back to the van, Han has changed into sweatpants and what appears to be an old t-shirt. Leia allows herself one look before he turns around.

He’s also set up both beds. 

“Did you want to go inside and brush your teeth?” she asks.

Han points to the kitchen set up, which she notices has been uncovered. “Already did. Got a sink here.”

She has to admit that it’s convenient. It also means that Han probably hasn’t been  _ completely _ unwashed for the past week. Not that she cares. Beyond, you know, having to share a van with him for the next few days. And it’ll be worse if he stinks.

“So how do I get up there?” she asks. She thinks she can lift herself in, but she’s not sure whether there’s a trick to it. There’s certainly no step stool.

“If you can’t swing yourself up, I can give you a hand. But take your boots off first.”

Like hell is she letting Han Solo put a hand on her.

“I can get up myself.” But she does swing herself into the passenger’s seat and take her boots off. It’s easier to do it there anyway.

Han locks the doors from the inside and flops down onto his bed. He’s not going to sleep; not yet. The radio is still playing; she can hear the familiar melody of a [Tim McGraw song](https://open.spotify.com/track/3IvcWWehbBcBR4YZxlGM9R?si=SexJqHDFRCyziVeIsyT1WQ) coming through the speakers.

She hoists herself up onto the top bunk and starts sorting out the blankets he’d tossed up there (clean, or at least passing for it) before saying anything.

“I didn’t take you as a country fan.”

“Me? I like all kinds of music. Country seemed safer than Christian radio, anyway.”

Leia snorts. 

“Don’t tell me a Georgia peach like you doesn’t like Tim McGraw.”

“Don’t ever call me a Georgia peach again or I’ll shove your balls so far up your ass even the best surgeon in the country can’t remove them.”

Han scoffs. He actually  _ scoffs. _ “Duly noted, your highness.”

“I like Tim McGraw okay. I wouldn’t say he’s my favorite, but I like him. Not that being from Georgia has anything to do with it; he’s from Louisiana.”

“Who’s your favorite, then?”

“Country? Johnny Cash, probably.”

“Oh, come on.”

“I’m serious!”

“I’d have figured you for a Dixie Chicks fan.”

“Who do you like, then?”

“Like I said: I like all kinds of music.”

Leia finds a pillow and fluffs it. “That’s a cop-out,” she calls down.

“Bob Dylan,” Han says.

And.

Well.

It fits.

She doesn’t think he’s lying. 

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

Han grumbles something under his breath.

“What was that?”

“I said: are you always so annoying?”

“Always,” she says.

There’s a lull in the conversation, and she can hear a [Carrie Underwood song](https://open.spotify.com/track/05BgC2247XGi8ySwBzOO0o?si=ivWZC4mNS8Kj0nMANibDZg) playing now.

He doesn’t say anything else, and neither does she. 

After the song is over, he gets up and turns the engine and the light off.

She manages to sleep, even though she’s pretty cold.

* * *

She wakes up to the smell of pancakes and hashbrowns.

When she looks over the ledge, she sees Han sitting on the bench – back to a bench now – eating McDonald’s. The engine is running, but the radio is off. He must have been trying to let her sleep.

The thought is strangely touching.

“Walked over earlier. Got you something, too.”

She’s going to break out from all this fast food, but right now, she’s just hungry. 

“Thanks,” she says.

And, well, okay, he’d have to be a fucking asshole not to get her food, too. But still, it’s nice.

She folds all the blankets back up and swings herself back down.

As they eat, she’s aware that she’s probably never spent this much time with Han altogether before. He’s always been Luke’s friend, not hers.

“You check your phone lately?” he asks her between bites of whatever breakfast sandwich he’s eating.

“Not yet.” So she does. And nothing from Luke, and Amilyn says he hasn’t come back yet. She has a text from her dad asking about her exams, so she texts him back. She doesn’t tell him anything about Luke.

But she does tell Han as she texts Amilyn.

“I hope you’re right,” Han says.

She does, too. 

He takes the trash out after they’re done eating, so she takes the opportunity to put on a bra under her shirt. She’s not going to risk actually changing, but she does put her coat back on.

When Han comes back,he rolls his eyes, pops open one of the cabinets, and tosses her something. “Here.”

She looks at it.

It’s an old Lions hoodie.

She doesn’t say anything; she takes her coat off and puts the hoodie on instead.

Then she goes to sit in the passenger’s seat. 

* * *

They’re somewhere in Arkansas when she asks, “So do you always get girls breakfast?”

“Believe it or not, you’re the first girl to spend the night here.” His tone is deceptively light.

Leia can sense an insecurity. And, well, it’s worth asking. It’s not like she hasn’t wondered. “Guys?”

“One guy. Not your brother.”

She wasn’t worried about that. “Luke would have told me if he had.”

“There was a girl,” Han says, keeping his eyes on the road. “We grew up together. Well. Foster care.” 

As he says it, she can see it.

“We lost touch. Aged out of the system. Got back in touch years later. She moved on.”

Before Leia can even say anything – something sympathetic, probably, for once – Han continues.

“But that was before I got the Falcon, anyway.”

“I’m sorry,” Leia says.

“Don’t be. It all worked out for the best.”

She resists the urge to point out the fact that he’s living in a van. 

“And the guy?”

Han shrugs. “Just a friend. Kind of. Won the Falcon off him in a card game.”

“You’ve seriously only slept with two people?” This is very much Not Her Business, but since when has that mattered to her? (Never).

Han rolls his eyes, but he doesn’t look at her. “Wasn’t aware it was a contest, Princess.”

Leia’s slept with more than two people. Han’s – well, she’s not sure how old he is, but he’s older than her.

And a man.

Hell, she’s pretty sure  _ Luke _ has slept with more people than Han. That shouldn’t be possible.

In the lull in conversation, she can hear the suggestive lyrics of a [Sam Hunt song](https://open.spotify.com/track/7mldq42yDuxiUNn08nvzHO?si=uyWIA7T0Q2uYzUIriDCLzg). She almost wants to change the station, but that would only draw attention to it.

“Luke said you dropped out of community college.”

“It ain’t like I’m stupid, or anything,” Han says warningly.

“I didn’t say you were.” She’s just trying desperately to cover the words of the song.

“I didn’t see the point. I wanted to get out of Detroit – and I’m out. I don’t want to be a lawyer or doctor or anything where I  _ need _ to go to college. Seemed like a waste of money.”

She wants to protest – to extol the virtues of education for the sake of education (she suspects that’s a monologue her mother has given more than once) – but she doesn’t. Her dad never even graduated high school. She grew up – well, not spoiled, not really, but she’s never  _ needed _ anything she didn’t already have.

College was always a given.

Even her dad says that he’d probably be an engineer if he’d had the opportunities she and Luke do.

“What do you want to do?” she asks instead.

Han shrugs. “Still trying to figure that out. Chewie says I need to get my shit together, and I know he’s right, but he  _ knows _ what he wants to do.”

That’s a name she hasn’t heard before. “Who’s Chewie?”

“My roommate.”

“Your…?” 

“Technically-speaking, anyway.”

“But you live in this van.”

“I sleep here a lot. I don’t like being tied down. But I got a place to go home to when I need it.”

Now she feels like an idiot.

“How old are you, anyway?” 

“Twenty-five,” he says. “I got plenty of time to figure it out.”

* * *

They get gas and a bite to eat around Oklahoma City. Han stretches his legs. Leia shoos him away so she can put on jeans. As comfortable as sweatpants are, she can’t wear her only pair for the next few days straight.

When she lets Han back into the van, he finds a classic rock station that lasts a couple hours.

She still hasn’t heard anything from Amilyn about Luke, though she promises she’s keeping an eye out.

“You know my parents thought you were dating Luke,” she says as they pass into Texas.

“I kind of had a feeling,” he says. “Parents aren’t usually that invested in their kids’ friends.”

“Luke’s out to them. But he hasn’t actually told them about his boyfriends. He thinks they’ll meddle.”

“If what I saw is any judgement, he’s right.”

Leia huffs out a laugh.

“He’s not my type. Don’t worry.”

“Why would I worry about that?”

Han doesn’t take his eyes off the road. “I’m just saying. Luke’s a good kid, but… the whole innocent farm boy thing doesn’t do it for me. And I know he’s from Atlanta. Still.”

He stops at a liquor store before they leave Texas, somewhere around Amarillo. She stays in the van. 

“You know, when most people do impromptu road trips, it’s warm enough to camp out and sit outside and drink,” he says when he comes back and starts putting the liquor and beer he bought away.

“Especially when they do Route Sixty-Six,” Leia says. “Which we’ve been doing since Oklahoma City, more or less.”

“Kid couldn’t have waited until spring semester to run away,” Han says.

“Don’t give him ideas when we find him.”

Han closes the fridge and comes back to the driver’s seat. “I won’t. Someone would have to share a bed.”

She thinks he might be flirting, so she says, “Luke and I can share the big bed. You can sleep in the pop top.”

Han rolls his eyes. “I’m too tall for the pop top.”

“That sounds like it’s your problem.”

He starts the car. “It’s  _ my _ van.”

“What a convenient excuse.”

Han pulls out of the parking lot and starts driving away. “Help yourself to a beer, if you want. You’re not driving.”

* * *

They spend the next night in another Walmart parking lot, this one in Albuquerque. She changes in the bathroom again.

All things considered, all of the pit stops for gas and bathroom breaks, they’re making good time. It’s late as hell, though, and she’s had a few beers since Amarillo.

It’s warmer in New Mexico than it was in Tennessee, but Leia still keeps the hoodie on. It’s warm. That’s all there is to it.

“We’re stopping in Vegas tomorrow and getting showers,” she says. Vegas, after all, should have some kind of cheap hotel that takes cash. That, or she can pay Han back.

She doesn’t even care if it’s some sketchy by-the-hour place, as long as she gets a shower. She probably should have insisted on doing that tonight, but it’s a bit late for that now.

Han looks it up on his phone. “Might as well spend the night. It’s a little over eight hours without traffic. We just need to steer clear of Bespin Casino.”

She doesn’t ask why. She can guess. “Fine by me. And no more McDonald’s in the morning.”

“Whatever you say, your worship. Since we’re only going eight or nine hours, I can get groceries at Walmart and cook in here. Propane tank’s mostly full, anyway.”

She doesn’t expect Han to be anything more than a passable cook, but if he ends up being awful, she can always get breakfast at McDonald’s anyway.

[“Something to Talk About”](https://open.spotify.com/track/6Ceejf3zBXvAhIY9DbP1Pr?si=AMSdkL2yQX2Vf_ZjIsdVUg) plays on the radio as she brushes her teeth.

“We might beat him there,” Han says.

“What?”

“We can sleep in here. We’ve been making good time. No hotels, minimal breaks. What do you think the chances are of Luke getting distracted at every stop along the way? Sleeping in at hotels? He can’t really sleep in that tiny car you have.”

“Maybe, but we still left two days after he did.”

“I think he could stretch it out. Especially if we pushed through tomorrow and went straight to the fucking Mojave desert. Which we won’t.”

“If we get there when he does, then all the better. I’m not convinced our uncle Owen won’t immediately call our dad, no matter what Luke says.”

“What’s the nearest airport to them?”

“My dad will call me first. Trust me.”

Han doesn’t really look like he believes her, but he’s probably too tired to argue. “Whatever. I’ll cook breakfast tomorrow, and we’ll spend the night in Vegas. But I’m serious: we can’t be anywhere  _ near _ the Strip.”

“Fine,” Leia says. She hauls herself up to the top bunk. 

Han switches off the car (and with it, the radio), and the light. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

* * *

The next day passes without incident. Han makes french toast for breakfast. Leia goes inside Walmart to buy a pack of gum and changes in the bathroom. When she gets back, Han is fully dressed.

She puts his hoodie back on over her clothes. She doesn’t think she’ll need her coat until they’re halfway back to school.

If she’s even going to go back with Han. Why wouldn’t she just go back with Luke? The Honda is much more reliable. It has bluetooth. 

She doesn’t know why she’s even thinking about this yet.

She is completely confident that they’ll find Luke alive and well with Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru.

But that’s the first step.

Han serves his french toast on those weird camping plates, even though Leia’s pretty sure he’s never actually  _ gone camping _ with the van.

_ Pretty _ sure.

“So,” he says as he washes the plates (something she didn’t expect from him, if she’s honest). “We’re spending the night at a hotel in Vegas, and stopping somewhere along the way for lunch? I figure we can get dinner in Vegas.”

“Works for me,” Leia says. “I just don’t want to show up to some relatives I’ve never met and demand to use their shower.”

“I tried that once. Wouldn’t recommend it.”

She can’t tell if he’s being serious, so she doesn’t address it. Instead, she checks her phone – and Luke’s phone, too, while a [Luke Bryan song](https://open.spotify.com/track/5HGibWoxnkYSkl6mHmAlOE?si=Tgy2Y6e2RYGigjxKfbRC9w) plays on the radio.

“Nothing from my parents or from Amilyn about Luke. Nothing on his phone, either. But – like I’ve been saying, I’m sure he’s fine.”

“I hope you’re right,” Han says. He finishes drying off the dishes, puts them away, and turns to her. “You ready?”

Leia moves to the passenger’s seat. “Whenever you are.”

* * *

Lunch that afternoon is in Flagstaff – some local diner off the highway. The food isn’t  _ great _ (really, Leia almost wishes they’d gone to the Applebees), but it’s edible. Before Han can get out his card, she puts cash down on the table.

“You’ve paid for everything so far,” she says.

“Where’d you get cash?”

“I get cash out all the time,” Leia says. “Unlike my brother, I don’t make one big withdrawal at a time.” This isn’t the first time she’s had to follow Luke on some wild goose chase, after all. It’s just the first time with company.

Not that she wouldn’t rather be doing this alone.

But, well, maybe Han Solo isn’t as much of a lazy, shiftless asshole as she originally thought.

He fills up the tank at a rest stop. An old [Shania Twain song](https://open.spotify.com/track/0pdfN7nOHMYmKykzu1cyfm?si=aSm74oPoSpWWpC_PIbnpMQ) comes on the radio. Leia turns it up as she plugs her phone into her power bank.

Amilyn says there’s still no sign of Luke.

That’s fine.

Her parents still haven’t said anything about Beru and Lars, so maybe they really are beating him there.

Han pulls a face when he gets back in the van. “Shania Twain?”

“Don’t tell me Mr. All Kinds of Music doesn’t like Shania Twain.”

“It’s not that I don’t like her, I just don’t see why you gotta blast it.”

Leia rolls her eyes and very pointedly does not turn the music down.

Han doesn’t turn it down either, but unfortunately, as he gets back onto the highway, the next song is “[Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy](https://open.spotify.com/track/5s7m2xNZWgz5FqVSIvJcGA?si=iqq5XRXBTj6kwqWuxmqxKg)”, and Han keeps one hand over the volume controls.

When she crosses her arms and rolls her eyes, she can see him grin.

He’s  _ enjoying  _ this.

She expects him to turn the volume down when the song ends, and his fingers even twitch, but then “[Achy Breaky Heart](https://open.spotify.com/track/2EoIt9vdgFRNW03u5IvFsQ?si=SQ9MMumAS4yO_enfUbkH6Q)” comes on, and he doesn’t move. 

“You’ve made your point,” she yells over Billy Ray Cyrus’s howling.

Han’s grin only widens. “What, Miss You-Don’t-Like-Shania doesn’t like Billy Ray Cyrus?”

“No. I don’t.”

“Well, tough,” Han says.

Asshole.

* * *

They get into Vegas around seven at night. The promise of an actual  _ bed _ and a shower has Leia desperate.

Han insists on taking a series of back roads, which makes Leia’s GPS on her phone recalculate about a hundred times. 

They don’t get to the hotel until eight.

It isn’t on the Strip, which is fine by Leia. It looks decent enough. Clean, anyway. Nothing seems to be falling apart. No signs of neglect.

Han goes up to the front desk to try to check them in when a man with a mustache comes out of the back room. He’s wearing an honest-to-god  _ cape.  _ What’s more, he looks right at Han. Like he knows him. 

“Han, old, buddy, is that you?”

The change in Han’s posture is immediate; it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that whoever this is, it’s not someone Han wants to see.

“Lando; I thought you still owned that casino on the Strip. Guess we can’t all be as successful as we want.”

“I do still own the Bespin. We’re doing so well that we decided to expand.” He steps out from behind the counter to pull Han into a hug. “I don’t know why you’re all the way out here; you know there’s always a room for you at the Bespin.”

“Aw, you know we didn’t want to put you out.”

The man – Lando – seems to notice Leia then. “Hello,” he says in a voice  _ far _ too charming to not be a come on.

“Watch it,” Han says. “She’s nineteen.”

“I can stand up for myself, thank you very much,” Leia says.

Lando rolls his eyes. “You evidently know Han. I’m Lando Calrissian. Who might you be?”

“Leia.” She doesn’t give him her last name; that’s a dead giveaway, and her parents are not supposed to find out about this.  _ Leia _ is already uncommon enough. 

“Well,  _ Leia, _ I’m the owner and manager of this place – and a  _ much _ nicer hotel-casino on the Strip. Come on, Han, I’ll let you stay for free. Presidential suite.”

“How do I know you’re not just trying to get your hands on the Falcon? You know, I won it fair and square.”

Lando rolls his eyes. “That hunk of junk? Han, if I want a Vanagon, I can buy myself a  _ much _ nicer model. Come on. For old time’s sake.”

Leia only wonders what he means by that for a second. Then she notices Lando’s hand on Han’s shoulder, and thinks back to what Han said the other day.

Did he really take her to his ex’s hotel? She doesn’t know why she’s suddenly offended; it’s not like she cares what  _ Han Solo _ does in his spare time! He’s only here so he doesn’t go running to her parents about Luke! That’s all!

“I don’t know…” Han says.

“Come on. Presidential suite  _ and _ dinner on me. For both of you.”

Han looks at Leia, who shrugs. It’s not her call, after all. It’s his money. Or his – whatever.

“Fine,” Han says. “But no funny business.”

* * *

Han refuses to let the valet take the Falcon, so Leia gets out with her backpack and goes in with Lando.

She’s spent the past twenty minutes trying to figure out how old he is.

Older than Han, but not by  _ that _ much, right?

Not that it matters.

The Bespin is on the Strip, huge and shiny and modern. The entire entrance and reception area is bright white. Leia wonders how much bleach the cleaning crew must go through.

“I’ll save the grand tour for when Han gets back,” Lando says.

“He hasn’t been here before?”

“Here? Nah.” Lando shakes his head. “We met before I bought the Bespin.”

“You don’t know him from Detroit, though.”

“No.” Lando laughs. “I’m from Beverly Hills. Met Han in L.A. a while back.”

“And he won that hunk of junk off of you.”

“I let him win.”

Leia doesn’t believe him. She doesn’t think she blames Han for not trusting him, either. But she follows him to the reception desk.

“Elle, can we book the presidential suite for my friend.”

The woman’s expression settles into a scowl. “You’re willingly throwing away money, you know.”

“I know it’s not booked. It doesn’t cost much less to let the suite sit there empty.”

Elle rolls her eyes (Leia can’t imagine showing that much open disdain for a manager; it leaves her with more questions than answers) and types something into her computer. “Fine. Two keys?”

“I think so.”

Elle grumbles something under her breath, but produces the key cards in a cardboard envelope. “Anything else?”

“If you wouldn’t mind making a reservation for three at the restaurant? About half an hour?”

“Fine.”

Lando hands the key cards to Leia. “Thank you, Elle. Don’t know what I’d do without you!”

“Go bankrupt, apparently,” Elle grumbles.

Lando escorts Leia over to a modern (read: uncomfortable) sofa to wait for Han.

“So how long have you known Han?”

He says Han’s name like  _ hand, _ which is  _ not _ how Han’s ever said his name. It must be intentional, to rile him up. 

Leia doesn’t fall for it. “About a year.”

Lando whistles. “Didn’t think he’d stay in one place that long.”

“Maybe you don’t know him as well as you think you do.”

Fortunately, Han comes in before Lando can say anything else, and Leia is struck by how  _ relieved _ she feels. 

Relieved.

To see Han Solo.

God, she really  _ does _ need to sleep in a real bed.

“Booked you the presidential suite, and dinner in half an hour. Leia has the key cards. Figure you could use the time to clean up.”

“Thanks,” Han says.

“Anything for an old friend.”

Lando shows them to the suite, but – thank god – does not follow them inside.

Which is a good thing because the suite is nicer than anywhere Leia’s actually  _ stayed _ before.

There’s a full-size fireplace (with a giant flat-screen TV hanging over it), floor-to-ceiling windows, a fucking crystal  _ fountain _ in the center of the room. 

Like the rest of the hotel, it’s all white and chrome and glass.

“Holy shit,” she says as Han shuts the door behind them.

“No kidding,” he says.

She doesn’t have much time (and she already knows she’ll have to come back to wash her hair; hopefully the dry shampoo has been enough), so she doesn’t linger like she might otherwise. It’s not that Leia isn’t used to nice things, but this is extravagant.

She picks a direction at random and hopes it leads to a bedroom. Fortunately, it does. It’s so large that the king-sized bed seems small, and it’s very sparsely furnished. The whole place seems overwhelmingly minimalist.

There’s another door in the bedroom, and through there is a sparkling white bathroom. Leia sighs in relief.

She goes back to lock the bedroom door and wastes no more time in stripping down and stepping into the shower.

* * *

It occurs to her when she gets out of the shower that she doesn’t have anything formal to wear. Hell, when she’d walked into the hotel, she’d been wearing a ratty old hoodie, jeans, and Doc Martens.

Hardly the appropriate attire for a formal dinner.

She wraps herself in one of the extremely fluffy robes, slips on the ultra plush slippers, and pads out to the living room.

Han is nowhere in sight, but Elle, the receptionist is.

She looks very… put-upon. 

She motions to the garment bags she’s holding. “Lando had these sent up for you.” She hands Leia one.

Leia unzips it.

It’s not the most formal dress she’s ever worn. It’ll work.

“Thank you,” she says. “Is the other for Han? I can make sure he gets it.”

She doesn’t actually know when the last time Han took a shower was, but it’s probably been longer for him than it has for her. 

“It’s fine. I’ll wait.” 

Leia wants to insist, but it ultimately doesn’t matter. Besides, she doesn’t have much time. “Then thank you for bringing up the dress. I’ll go get changed now.”

She takes the garment bag, goes into her bedroom, and locks the door.

She takes the dress out of the garment bag and lays it flat on the bed. It clearly wasn’t meant to be worn with docs, but she’ll make do.

She didn’t bring any makeup (it’s not essential, after all), but she doesn’t  _ really _ think she needs it. After all, makeup is just another tool of patriarchal oppression. And she’s just seeing  _ Han,  _ anyway. Well, and Lando, but Lando might actually be closer in age to her dad than he is to her.

So she’ll put on the dress and rebraid her hair, but she won’t go further than that. She laces up her Docs, grabs her phone, and goes to wait in the living room.

She doesn’t have to wait long.

The clothes Lando pulled for Han aren’t very fancy. It’s just a simple three-piece suit. Black and white.

But it hits her when she sees him that she’s never seen him in so much as a collared shirt.

And – well, he looks  _ good. _

Too good.

She clears her throat. “Took you long enough.”

“Shirt has fucking french cuffs. Lando couldn’t have gotten a normal shirt.”

“Seems like he’s the type to like fucking with you.”

“You don’t know the half of it,” Han says.

Leia gets up to go, and Han stops in his tracks. 

“That’s what he got you?”

Leia shrugs. “I guess he didn’t know my size for a suit.”

“You, uh… you look good, Leia.”

It’s probably the first time Han has ever called her by her actual name. It’s weird.

“Thanks.” It isn’t that she’s not aware of the way Han’s looking at her. Or even that she minds (too much).

But she’s not going to draw attention to it.

Besides, they have a reservation.

* * *

Leia  _ has _ eaten at restaurants this nice before – nicer, even – and while she gets some strange looks from the staff, no one actually stops her. For some reason, Han offers her his arm, and she takes it.

It’s just  _ Han, _ after all.

Lando is already at the table, though he stands up when they arrive. “I see Elle found you two something to wear.”

“French cuffs, really?” Han asks.

Lando shrugs. “Looks good on you, though. Don’t you think, Leia?”

Leia rolls her eyes. “I guess.” She seats herself before either Han or Lando get any stupid ideas about pulling her chair out for her.

She lets Han and Lando do their bro banter thing (though is it really  _ bro _ banter when Leia’s figured out that Han and Lando have definitely had sex at least once? She’s not really sure where that line is).

But the entire experience isn’t terrible. 

The food is some kind of molecular gastronomy. French fusion, Leia guesses from the menu. Nothing she hasn’t had before (what  _ is _ it with molecular gastronomy and French fusion?).

She doesn’t even try to order wine. She doesn’t think Han would say anything, but Lando knows she’s under twenty-one, too, so it isn’t worth the risk.

Lando turns to her after their appetizers have been cleared away. “So what’s a pretty girl like you doing with a scoundrel like Han?”

She rolls her eyes. “What, you think I’m too good for Han?”

“I  _ know _ you’re too good for Han,” Lando says with a grin.

Asshole. She gives him a smile with so much venom he might as well drop dead then and there. “I finished my finals early and we decided on a little road trip. As you know, we can sleep in the Falcon.”

“So why were you trying to check into one of my hotels?”

“Easier than trying to find public showers this time of year,” Han says.

He wraps an arm around Leia’s shoulders, and she doesn’t shrug him off.

* * *

When the suite door is safely closed behind them, Leia sighs. “What did you ever see in that fucking asshole?”

Han shrugs. “He has his moments. I definitely remember why I haven’t seen him in years.”

Leia checks her watch. It’s only ten-thirty. “I’m going to wash my hair and take advantage of that whirlpool bath.”

“I’m gonna take advantage of the wet bar,” Han says. He takes his cufflinks off. “After I get out of this fucking suit.”

She waves him off and goes to her own room.

She makes sure to put the dress in the garment bag and hang it back up in the closet. Just to be safe. She takes her boots off, gets her shampoo, conditioner, and leave-in cream out of her bag, and goes into the bathroom.

Because this is a luxury suite, there’s some fancy bubble bath by the bathtub. She picks the one that smells the best and pours it in.

Typically, Leia takes showers. She lives in a dorm, so there’s no way for her to take a bath during school. At home, it’s too much effort.

But this is nice. It’s a luxury she hasn’t allowed herself in a while, and she lets herself melt into the hot water. After a while, she starts to wash her hair. 

She knows that she should probably be worried about Luke, but if he weren’t okay, she would know. She firmly believes that tomorrow, they’re going to get to Owen and Beru’s house, and find Luke safe and sound (and annoyed that he’d been tracked down).

By the time she gets out of the bath, wraps herself in another clean, fluffy robe, and works the leave-in cream through her hair, it’s almost midnight.

She should go to sleep, crawl into the king-size bed and sleep in a comfortable bed for the first time in months.

But instead, she puts on underwear under her robe and goes out to the living room.

Han is sitting on the sofa, watching something on tv.

He’s wearing nothing but a pair of sweatpants.

“Lando sent up a memo to leave laundry outside and he’ll have it cleaned by tomorrow,” Han says.

Which is why Leia runs back to her room to gather her dirty laundry, and not because the sight of Han Solo bare-chested and relaxed is something that excites her. It doesn’t. He doesn’t. Just because he’s better than she thought he was doesn’t mean she’s  _ attracted _ to him.

The very idea is ridiculous.

She’s on the Dean’s List, and he  _ willingly _ sleeps in a van.

Absolutely not.

She finds a laundry bag in the closet, shoves all her dirty clothes in it, and, after a moment’s thought, puts a t-shirt on under her robe, too. Just to be safe. 

Not that she thinks Han will do anything inappropriate. There’s more of a chance of Luke barging into the suite and telling them he’s quit school to become an assassin than there is of Han trying anything inappropriate. Leia knows that. 

But she’s almost as prone to impulsive bullshit as Luke is, and a shirt is another layer of clothes between her and Han. If she does something stupid, it’ll give her a few more seconds to reevaluate. Hopefully. 

She wraps the robe tightly around herself as she takes the laundry out.

“Thanks,” she says.

Han doesn’t look at her – part of her is offended, but then she notices how trained his eyes are not on the television, but on a random patch of sky outside the window.

So he’s making a point of not looking at the girl in the robe.

“I’m wearing something under this, you know,” she says, which she doesn’t mean to, but she doesn’t need him being stupid all night.

She crosses to the wet bar and pours herself a whiskey. She downs it in one go.

Han doesn’t say anything. She hears the TV show continue; she thinks it’s  _ Justified _ (she can hear Timothy Olyphant, anyway, and knows that Luke has a thing for that show, so it makes sense that his friend would, too).

She pours herself another whiskey and goes to sit down next to him. She takes the bottle. “You’re acting like I’ve come out here to seduce you.”

“No, I’m not,” he says.

“You’re a shitty liar.” She sips at her whiskey and rolls her eyes. “If I wanted to seduce you, I would have done it already.”

He looks at her then. “Really?”

“Yes.”

“When?”

The worst part is that she doesn’t even need to think about it. “Memphis. Would’ve made an excuse about being cold and how we should share body heat for the night.”

“Let me guess: you would’ve put your hands under my shirt and some point and things would progress from there.”

“And you say you’ve never had a girl in that van.”

“No, but I have a working knowledge of B-list porn moves.”

Leia rolls her eyes. “So you  _ must  _ know that I have no intentions of seducing you.”

Han shrugs. He drinks more and watches the show.

Two can play at that game.

She finishes her whiskey and pours another. “Do you really have family in Detroit?”

Han shrugs. “My mom left not long after I was born. Figure she might not be dead. My dad is.” He mimes shooting himself. “Not that I saw it. I was at school.”

She’s sorry she asked. Which is probably Han’s intention. “Does Luke know?”

“Luke accepts  _ shut up _ as an answer.”

“Maybe with you,” Leia says darkly.

To her surprise, Han laughs. “I might not have any siblings, but I’ve been around enough of ‘em to know that’s different. And I also fucking know that while Luke  _ generally  _ doesn’t give a shit who I mess around with, sisters are different.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” she asks. The whiskey is starting to hit her now, but it’s a pleasant light buzz. Leia is not unpractised in holding her whiskey. “Luke would kill for us to get together.”

“He would, huh?”

“His best friend and his sister? Yeah. I mean, he wouldn’t want  _ details, _ but he’s always wanted us to end up marrying each other’s best friends, ever since we were little. I just keep throwing a wrench in his plans by being friends with girls.”

“That’s a fantasy. It’s different.”

And, well, she figures: what the hell? “Are you attracted to me, Han?”

Han scoffs. “What kind of bullshit question is that?”

“A straightforward one.” She looks at him squarely. He looks pointedly at the television.

“Listen, I told you –”

“You haven’t  _ told _ me anything,” Leia says, cutting him off.

“You’re such a fucking pain in the ass.”

“I could say the same of you.”

And then Han Solo is kissing her.

The thing about kissing Han Solo is that it’s nothing like she expected. She expected raw passion, fire, force. What she’s getting is tenderness, warmth, cautiousness. He tastes like beer and bourbon.

She’s peripherally aware that she’s still holding a glass of whiskey in one hand, and she doesn’t have enough awareness of the room around her to find a table to put it down on, so she holds it awkwardly out to the side.

Han’s hands don’t wander. One stays cupping her cheek, and the other – well, it’s not touching her. She wishes he would.

When he pulls away, he looks flushed and almost distressed. “Don’t say anything,” he says. He finishes his drink. “I know a girl like you would never actually do anything with a guy like me. It’s just – everything that’s going on. I get it.”

Leia’s shaken. She doesn’t know why she’s shaken. It wasn’t like she didn’t  _ want _ Han to kiss her. 

She just… expected it to be different.

“Are you always so self-deprecating?” she asks. “Or is it just when you get too close to something nice?’

“Fuck off,” Han says, but there’s no real venom in it.

She rolls her eyes and kisses him. “Let me get one thing straight,” she says when she pulls away, grabbing him by the front of his shirt. “I decide what I do and who I do it with. If I didn’t want you kissing me, I would have slapped you when you tried.”

She sees something like a smile – a genuine, real smile, not that stupid fucking cocky grin – cross his face. “Yes, ma’am.”

So she kisses him again.

* * *

In the morning, she has to remind herself that it’s not like she slept with Han. They just made out for a while and went to their own rooms. He never even felt her up! (She tries not to be disappointed).

She gets dressed in her last set of clean clothes, brushes her teeth, braids her hair, and goes out to the living room. 

There’s a breakfast spread on the dining table. She helps herself to an apple. 

The door opens, and Lando himself comes in.

“Wanted to make sure you got your clothes before you left.”

“Thanks,” she says. She takes the bundles from him.

“Is Han up?” 

She shrugs. “How should I know?” He  _ did _ drink a lot more than she did; he might actually be hungover.

“Well,” Lando says, “I won’t overstay my welcome. Tell him it was good to see him.”

“I will,” Leia says.

“You take care, too. Han’s a good guy, but I know better than anyone what an asshole he can be.”

“I think I’ve got that covered. But thanks.”

Lando smiles and nods and leaves, his cape (honestly, who the fuck wears a cape?) swishing dramatically behind him.

Leia rolls her eyes.

After she finishes her apple, she washes her hands in the sink and takes her laundry back to her room. She packs everything back up in her backpack except the hoodie, which she puts on over her t-shirt.

She sits at the dining table with her phone and eats a danish and drinks some coffee as she waits for Han to come out.

She doesn’t have to wait very long; just about twenty minutes. Han, unexpectedly, kisses her forehead before he goes to pour himself a cup of coffee. 

Leia’s not quite sure how to react. They need to have an actual  _ discussion _ at some point, but she doesn’t want to ambush him when he’s just woken up.

“So,” he says. “The Falcon’s just around the corner. We can walk. We need gas, but we can get that before we leave town.”

“Okay,” she agrees. It’s winter, anyway. She thinks she can manage to walk a few blocks in Vegas.

“Good,” he says. “At least we don’t have to worry about breakfast.”

* * *

They’re about thirty minutes out from Vegas and a [Blake Shelton song](https://open.spotify.com/track/5sjIhQzNljMVrDklI91ezp?si=XUsGUPi0TsmRMihJZx8B6g) is playing on the radio when Han says, “You know – you’re probably never gonna let me live this down, but… when I first met you…”

He trails off, and as much as Leia generally doesn’t  _ mind _ Blake Shelton, she wants Han to finish what he was saying.

“What?”

Han rakes a hand through his hair. “I liked you. That’s all.”

It takes her a second to realise what’s happening. He’s embarrassed. “I wouldn’t have kissed you if I didn’t like you,” she says.

“Oh,” Han says.

“Took you long enough.”

She doesn’t say that it took  _ her _ long enough, and neither does he. It’s true, though. 

A [Taylor Swift song](https://open.spotify.com/track/0dBW6ZsW8skfvoRfgeerBF?si=9whXb55LQayHP1mAJr0z6w) follows the Blake Shelton song, and she wonders if they’re going to listen to country radio the entire way back.

She could get used to this.

* * *

She knows what town Owen and Beru live in only from their Facebook accounts. She knows, especially in a Lions hoodie and Virginia tags on the Falcon, that she looks like an outsider. That Han looks like an outsider.

They stop at the gas station (they need gas anyway), and Leia asks how to get to the Lars’ home. She explains that she’s Owen’s niece and wanted to see him on her way to the coast.

It isn’t until she says that her father is Anakin Skywalker that the woman deigns to give them the information. “How is Ani?” she asks.

Leia has only ever heard her mother call her father by that name, but she takes it in stride. Or at least she hopes so. “He’s good. He owns his own garage, now.”

“Well,” the woman says. “You tell him that Jira asked about him.”

“I will,” Leia promises. Once she has Luke back and they figure out how to tell their parents what happened without them freaking out.

She gives Han the directions Jira told her, and they make it to a modest house in a matter of minutes.

Luke’s car is in the driveway.

He’s here.

“Told you he’d be here,” Leia says.

“Yeah, yeah,” Han grumbles, but he looks more relaxed than he has in days.

He parks the car and Leia knocks on the door.

A man with a short beard answers the door.

“You must be Leia! I recognize you from your mom’s Chanukah cards. Come in, come in. Luke’s in the kitchen with Beru.”

“This is Han,” Leia says.

“Good to meet you, Han,” Owen says.

They follow him into the house – the house her father left for the last time when he was only a little older than she was.

When she sees Luke, she can’t help it; she rushes and gives him a hug.

“Easy, Leia. How’d you get here so fast? I just got here an hour ago.”

“You left your phone, and Han didn’t believe me when I said you were fine. He insisted on driving all the way out.”

Luke has the decency to look embarrassed. “Yeah, I realized I forgot my phone somewhere around Nashville.”

Leia rolls her eyes, digs his phone out of his backpack, and hands it to him. Then she gets her own. “I need to tell Amilyn she can stop scoping out your dorm. You know we leave on Birthright  _ from New York _ in a little over week.”

“I know, I know. I just… I don’t know. I felt weird. Like, Birthright’s supposed to be about connecting with our heritage, and like, okay, we’ve never been to Israel, but we know Mom’s family. We know all about Mom’s family, down the shtetl in Poland they emigrated from. We don’t really know anything about Dad’s.”

“I know,” Leia says. She kisses his cheek. Despite her confidence that he was safe, it  _ is _ a relief to see him again. “But next time  _ tell _ someone.”

“I will,” Luke promises.

* * *

Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru insist that everyone spend the night, and so Leia, Luke, and Han have a big, ridiculous sleepover in the spare room. 

“You really scared me, kid,” Han says.

“Yeah, well, I’m sure you liked spending a few days alone with Leia.”

Leia swats at him. “Luke!”

“What?”

“Anyway,” Han says. “How are we getting back? The Falcon can’t tow.”

“I  _ was _ going to leave my car here and fly to New York from Vegas, or something. Then have Mom and Dad have it shipped back.”

“I’m driving back,” Han says. As if anyone doubted that.

Leia rolls her eyes and pats his shoulder. “Trust me: we know.”

“We could all ride in the Falcon?” Luke suggests. “I could sleep in the pop top. It’s not like Owen and Beru aren’t going to call Mom and Dad in the morning, if they haven’t already. They’ll get the car shipped back.”

“Works for me,” Han says.

“But we’re calling Mom and Dad,” Leia says. “I’m not spending the entire ride back sleeping in the Falcon again.”

“You slept in the Falcon, huh?” Luke asks.

Leia elbows him in the ribs. “Fuck off.”

“Love you, too,” he says. “Don’t worry. I’ll give you two space.”

Leia has to remind herself that killing your brother is illegal. Well, after she kicks him.

* * *

Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru don’t let them go without food for the road. They call their parents in the morning and work everything out. No one’s angry, but that’s mostly because Leia and Luke have gotten really good at pretending Luke’s impulsive bullshit was planned – that they just “forgot” to tell their parents.

Leia tells their dad about Jira, and she’s rewarded with the first nice thing she’s ever heard him say about Tatooine: “I always liked Jira; I hope she’s doing well.” (Well, it’s not about Tatooine, but it’s close enough).

Leia decides, based on less than a day of having met them, that she likes Owen and Beru. But she can see why her dad wanted to get the hell out of Tatooine and never come back. She’d be miserable here, too. As nice as it is to finally meet Owen and Beru. 

Luke stretches out on the bench seat of the Falcon. “We can take shifts,” he suggests. “Get there faster.”

“Fat chance, kid,” Han says. “No one drives the Falcon but me.”

Luke rolls his eyes. “Ley, you know how crazy he is about his car, right?”

“I’ve noticed.”

“Hey!” Han says.

Luke only grins. God, she's missed him.

But then he says, “Since when do you care about the Lions?” and Leia wonders if there’s any point in having siblings after all. Or if the only point is to annoy each other to death.

Han starts the car and tells Luke to mind his own business. 

“[Old Town Road](https://open.spotify.com/track/6u7jPi22kF8CTQ3rb9DHE7?si=aUmJdh2tRYeCdt19UWgJcQ)” comes on the radio.

She doesn’t know why she says it then, but she does: “Han suggested taking a road trip this summer. A real one.”

“As long as you two don’t have sex with me in the car. I don’t feel like that’s too much to ask.”

“We will if you don’t shut up,” Han says.

Leia laughs. 

Maybe she doesn’t hate Han Solo after all.

**Author's Note:**

> All songs mentioned in the fic / songs from the playlist (links to spotify):  
> » [Old Dominion - Snapback](https://open.spotify.com/track/7I5fYc4qKJddht8Ozhqqdx?si=iXEAUlUeSBiXGkZ-BULhOw)  
> » [Tim McGraw - I Like It, I Love It](https://open.spotify.com/track/3IvcWWehbBcBR4YZxlGM9R?si=SexJqHDFRCyziVeIsyT1WQ)  
> » [Johnny Cash - Ring of Fire](https://open.spotify.com/track/6YffUZJ2R06kyxyK6onezL?si=biNwHhRdRjCJAogSC_duTg)  
> » [The Chicks - Landslide](https://open.spotify.com/track/5hviCr3lgg6LY6noG6DPKs?si=bVeUYCfiSJquKtsTs05Otg)  
> » [Bob Dylan - Girl from the North Country](https://open.spotify.com/track/4K1imZQQ0yKtJ40vGmUajS?si=v9OO-qRQQiux-P7yzSC9ug)  
> » [Carrie Underwood - Heartbeat](https://open.spotify.com/track/05BgC2247XGi8ySwBzOO0o?si=ivWZC4mNS8Kj0nMANibDZg)  
> » [Sam Hunt - Body Like A Back Road](https://open.spotify.com/track/7mldq42yDuxiUNn08nvzHO?si=uyWIA7T0Q2uYzUIriDCLzg)  
> » [Bonnie Raitt - Something to Talk About](https://open.spotify.com/track/6Ceejf3zBXvAhIY9DbP1Pr?si=AMSdkL2yQX2Vf_ZjIsdVUg)  
> » [Luke Bryan - That’s My Kind of Night](https://open.spotify.com/track/5HGibWoxnkYSkl6mHmAlOE?si=Tgy2Y6e2RYGigjxKfbRC9w)  
> » [Shania Twain - Any Man of Mine](https://open.spotify.com/track/0pdfN7nOHMYmKykzu1cyfm?si=aSm74oPoSpWWpC_PIbnpMQ)  
> » [Big & Rich - Save a Horse (Ride a Cowboy)](https://open.spotify.com/track/5s7m2xNZWgz5FqVSIvJcGA?si=iqq5XRXBTj6kwqWuxmqxKg)  
> » [Billy Ray Cyrus - Achy Breaky Heart](https://open.spotify.com/track/2EoIt9vdgFRNW03u5IvFsQ?si=SQ9MMumAS4yO_enfUbkH6Q)  
> » [Blake Shelton - A Guy With A Girl](https://open.spotify.com/track/5sjIhQzNljMVrDklI91ezp?si=XUsGUPi0TsmRMihJZx8B6g)  
> » [Taylor Swift - Mine](https://open.spotify.com/track/0dBW6ZsW8skfvoRfgeerBF?si=9whXb55LQayHP1mAJr0z6w)  
> » [Lil Nas X - Old Town Road](https://open.spotify.com/track/6u7jPi22kF8CTQ3rb9DHE7?si=aUmJdh2tRYeCdt19UWgJcQ)
> 
> * * *
> 
> visit me on [tumblr](http://xslytherclawx.tumblr.com)!


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